The One With Ten Dollars
by greenish orange
Summary: [Complete] So five became six. CM.


**A/N: **I know it's been a while, but I'm still here – pinky swear. I've been super busy with midterms, insane projects, drama galore; at the same trying to get in some me time. Oh, and (semi) interesting news for anyone who cares, I'm turning sixteen on January 19th – holy wow, I feel so _old. _Truly, I don't need presents. (Psst, get me a present!).

-

"Can I talk to you?"

Chandler tossed Monica a beer. "Shoot."

She popped open the can and took a long swig.

"That bad, huh?"

She sat down on Joey's barcalounger. "I'm a terrible friend."

Chandler frowned and turned off the television. It was still playing reruns of _Gilligan's Island_, but he could wait. "But that can't be true – I haven't given you god-awful advice in _years_."

Monica sighed. "Can we be serious?"

"Uh-oh."

"Listen. It's about Rachel."

"The gravy-boat revelation lady? Okay."

Monica ran her finger around her can of beer. "It's weird seeing her again, you know? I mean, it's great, but it's hard watching her just _waltz_ back into my life like we're sixteen again! It's different now. Really different." She threw up her hands. "I mean, God, she's missed so much of my _life _– really important stuff! She hardly _knows_ you guys! She doesn't even know what responsibility _is_ – she's lived off her father since day one . . . and, yeah, way back when, I appreciated her, because she helped me fit in. But now – well – I don't need that help."

Chandler shrugged. "Maybe she came to you because she's realizing the exact same thing."

"I don't know – I don't know – but I don't think I can handle a roommate who has to _rely_ on me. It's too hard. I have my own life to lead."

"So what are you going to do?"

Monica finished off her beer. "What am I going to _do_? _What am I going to do_? Nothing! She needs me, and it really seems like she wants to change. I guess I'll just have to make do."

"And you just know Joey's gonna have a field day," Chandler added wryly.

"Yeah, about that – could you try to restrain him or something?"

Chandler replied, "I really think _physically _restraining him from hitting on people just makes him hornier." Monica looked horrified. "Believe me."

"Trust me, I do," she said quickly. "So what about Rachel?"

"Maybe you're just blowing it out of proportion," Chandler suggested. "You're getting a roommate. You're rediscovering old ties. All you need is spiritual awakening and a mediocre plot-twist and your movie is on the road."

"Chandler –" Monica warned.

"Or . . . not." He shrugged. "I'm just helping in the only way I can, Mon. Take it or leave it. You came to _me_ for help, and this is what I've got."

"I know. I should've known. I just thought –"

"Given the right circumstances, I'd bloom into a sophisticated young man? You know what you need, Mon? You need Rachel. A girlfriend. A gal pal."

"Yeah . . . yeah. Maybe you're right."

"I'm right?"

They looked at each other. "Wow," said Monica. "I guess you _are_ right."

"Holy Mary Magdalene, It's a miracle!" Chandler cried. "Two more and I'll reach sainthood, baby!"

"That's a pretty weird goal."

"Oh yeah. You know, being all-around sexy, peeing with the Rockettes, winning over the Catholic Church . . . deep down, it's really all the same."

"Of course."

Chandler grinned. "Hey, you know what? You owe me ten bucks."

"What?"

"You heard me. Cough it up, wench."

Monica crossed her arms. "Wench?"

"Paragon of beauty," Chandler corrected.

"I'm not paying you ten bucks!" Monica said defiantly. "Even if it _was_ valuable advice –"

"You'll thank me for it later, and _you're_ _welcome _by the way," Chandler said. "The ten bucks is for a little wager you made me, oh, two years ago."

"You're such a loser, you remember a _wager _from two years ago?"

"Don't you?"

Monica raised her eyebrows. Chandler crossed his arms patiently.

"Yeah," Monica said resentfully, fishing out ten dollars. "Here. But _technically_, I haven't had lunch with her yet."

Chandler grabbed the money triumphantly. "But you saw her again, didn't you?" Monica rolled her eyes. "Oh no, my friend, I don't forget embarrassing moments _that _easily. _Dropped my ball_, how stupid _was _I?"

"Do I even want to know?" Monica asked.

"Maybe not."

"Oh my God, you _didn't._"

Chandler studied something on the ceiling.

Monica pressed her hands against her mouth, trying to restrain her laughter. "You _hit_ on Rachel?"

"I was young and foolish! Don't judge me!"

"You're in _looovvveee_," Monica cooed, pinching Chandler's cheek. He quickly ducked out of reach.

"Okay, Mon, quick hint, when _love_ has more than one 'o', that's your signal to _stop_ and recalibrate your vocal cords."

"I'm just messing around," Monica said, grinning evilly at him. "You're so touchy. It's almost as if you have something to hide"

"Immaturity runs in the family, doesn't it?" Chandler said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey," said Monica, "you got your ten bucks, let me have my cake and eat it too."

"I'll never understand the message behind that."

"I know!" Monica cried shrilly. "If you have the cake, why _not _eat it?"

Chandler pocketed his ten dollars, touched her nose playfully, smiled. "You've always been my favorite."

She returned the gesture. "And you're good at using your charms for evil."

"You and Rachel, you'll be okay."

"I know."


End file.
